


Conjecture

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Insecurity, No Dialogue, Pining, Short One Shot, Sleep Deprivation, stress writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>con·jec·ture<br/>verb</p><p>1. To form an opinion or supposition about (something) on the basis of incomplete information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conjecture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jihishiro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jihishiro/gifts).



> i'm... sorry

                He wonders what she’s like when she’s not tired. Would she be quiet, silent, and absorbed in her own thoughts, or would she be loud, always saying something, sharing just what pops into her head as it does? Would she still laugh like she does – at many of the things he says, harsh, full of gasps and snorts, and choppy, like it’s breaking as it comes out of her mouth? Or instead, would she only smile, shake her head, or roll her eyes?

 

                He wonders. But he doesn’t think about it a lot, because that would lead to wishing. And wishing isn’t what he wants it to be.

 

                He knows he’s lucky. He knows that he’s only there _because_ she was tired, tired and bored, and so, so done with doing her math. He’s grown to – to enjoy her presence as she is and as he knows her; tired. It’s all he’s ever known of her and maybe, yes, he wants the best for her, doesn’t want her to hurt herself this way, but it’s not just that.

 

                It’s other things, too. It’s things like would she still like to be around him if she wasn’t constantly running on her coffee? And, would she be terrified to wake up one day and realize that he isn’t just some kind of figment of her imagination? That she’s been living with something that isn’t human and not even caring when he could have _hurt_ her?

 

                (Not that he would, not ever, but does _she_ know that?)

 

                Would she still be the human girl he’s come to… prefer over anyone else?

 

                If not, would it even matter?

 

                He wonders a lot of things about her, even if they aren’t just _what ifs_ and _what woulds_. He wonders if she knows just how deep the meaning of his words go when he says them, or if she brushes them aside. He wonders why she asks those bizarre questions, but only late at night. He wonders if she’s trying to stay awake and let her world keep its fuzzy tilt just to make sure he’s still in the bunk above hers when she opens her eyes.

 

                He wonders if there really is an excited look in her eye when she comes back home, ready to tell him stories about her day, or if he’s just projecting. He wonders if she notices the way he always turns off the TV right before she talks. He wonders if she notices the way he pushes the eggnog to the back of the fridge so she doesn’t ever make the mistake of blurrily seeing it as creamer in the morning again.

 

                He wonders if she knows that he’s listening – always listening – even if he’s shit at showing it. He wonders if she knows that he’s memorized all he can about what she’s said or done, or just how she looks on Sunday evenings after she’s woken up late. He wonders if she knows how thankful he is that even if he doesn’t know how to respond sometimes, she’ll just keep on going after that small, silent blip of waiting for him to reply.

 

                He wonders if she understands that he knows that she wears his clothes sometimes. He wonders if she’s ever seen the indentions his nails have left in his palms because of how hard it would be to hold himself back from just wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face into her shoulder, and just _inhaling_.

 

                Probably not. Maybe she’s good at spotting tropes or tiny details in TV shows or books or games, but the second it comes to life, where it affects her in some way, she has to immerse herself in focusing on it before she’ll understand anything without it being pointed out. And maybe that sounds cruel, but he doesn’t mean it like it’s something bad, because it isn’t like it’s not easy for her to notice it when she realizes. She’s _smart_ , she learns _fast_ , and she picks up on patterns.

 

                She just tends to be oblivious to how she affects people unless it’s in a purely negative fashion. It’d be cute if he knew how to talk and interact with her without her having to learn his ticks and what his words meant so he could find a way to tell her about what he’s thinking, sometimes.

 

                But then, he wonders, the thought sick, if she knows, but she just hasn’t said or done anything about it.

 

                Yet, when she comes in through that door, or if he hears her odd musings beneath his bed, the thought, while not dispelled, is pushed back from the front of his mind, too dark to exist in the same moment as the brightness he sees in her smile, or hear in her voice.

 

                Then, he finds himself wondering: if her lips, aching like her drooping eyelids, light up the room like this, what would it be like to see them full of actual energy?

 

                He wonders if he’ll ever get to know.

**Author's Note:**

> He belongs to [Kitty](https://birthdaise.tumblr.com/).


End file.
